Does there have to be a reason?
by maej26
Summary: Slash. Alex struggles with his feelings for Mike.


**Title: **DOES THERE HAVE TO BE A REASON?

**Pairing: **Mike "The Miz" Mizanin & Alex Riley  
**Rating: **T  
**Summary:** Alex struggles with his feelings for Mike.  
**  
Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the story.

* * *

Even though their on-screen personas despise one another, Mike and Alex always make it a point to hang out at least once a week after one of their shows. The friendship they have, the connection they share, is far too important to let slip away.

"I got us some pizzas with _everything_!" Mike announces, anger infiltrating his tone, as he stumbles into Alex's hotel room. Boxes stacked on one hand, a case of beer held in the other. He's too pissed to even concern himself with his diet right now. Slams the door shut behind him with his foot. Alex walks out of the bathroom, only a towel wrapped around his waist and another hanging from his neck. Mike doesn't even notice that Alex is still dripping from his shower, his muscles defined by the moisture.

"Anchovies?" worries Alex, his upper lip curling in disgust. He'll eat anything but if there's even a hint of anchovies, forget it.

"Fuck no!" Mike shoots back. "You know, after all I do for this company and they can't even give me a fucking match tonight!" He throws everything on the bed, including himself. "And after everything _you've_ fucking done. You were supposed to have a story by now with proper matches and all they do is shit on you." Mike's got half a slice stuffed in his mouth, barely has enough room for the words to escape as he's trying to chew. Alex reaches into his bag that sits on the floor next to where Mike is and pulls out some clothes so he can get dressed. He's rather quiet as he's changing, he knows Mike's right about everything but perhaps he's more used to it all by now. It's been almost a year since he's been treated with any kind of decency and Mike's just now starting to feel the ripple effects due to the change in hierarchy so it's understandable that he's finally lashing out. He only wishes they could have gone through this together but instead, he faded into the background on his own. Watched as his friend trailed behind him and there was nothing he could do to stop it all from falling apart.

"I should have known at Wrestlemania," Mike murmurs, more sad than angry. He thinks back to last year and how perfect everything was – headlining Wrestlemania with the only person on the planet he'd ever want to share the experience with. And then his thoughts bitterly shift to this year's catastrophe. It was the stark opposite, almost laughable if it wasn't so sad. The devastating culmination of everything going to shit the past ten months, right there on the grandest stage so the whole world could lay witness to his complete and utter failure. It doesn't matter that he won the match, it's about what they reduced him to. He guzzles down two beers in the next minute, Alex now sitting across from him on the bed, only imagining what his friend could be thinking. Mike looks up and finally notices Alex for the first time, can't help the way he fixates on the guy's muscles and rich tan as he reaches in for a slice. Mike finds the distraction welcoming, grateful not to be thinking so negatively, if only for a few seconds. He allows himself to remember how happy he always used to feel when he was wrapped in those protective arms and pressed against that warm chest. Then he shakes his head, trying to shake away the thoughts he knows he shouldn't have for his friend, wishes he could blame it on his growing buzz but he knows that's just a waste of energy. He manages to throw back two more beers before Alex even has time to blink.

"Easy there, Champ," Alex warns with a slight laugh. Doesn't want to sound like Mike's mom but seeing his friend headed towards a tailspin like this worries him.

"I'm not a champ. I don't think I ever was," Mike laments. Feels like he's drowning in absolute _patheticness_ and it's thick, can't seem to find the strength to break through. Just keeps slipping deeper and deeper and even further from the deceptive _calm_ of the surface. At least there though, he can breathe.

Alex grabs a can and pops the tab. Figures he better drink some so Mike has _less_ to consume but by this point there's only a few left.

"You were a champ. The _greatest_ champ this company has ever known."

"Don't placate me. I'm a joke and everyone knows it."

"Hey!" Alex snaps and demands Mike's attention. Mike reluctantly looks up until his eyes connect with the caring ones in front of him.

"This isn't you. This isn't the Mike I know. You're stronger than this. You're the strongest person I've ever met. Confidence levels through the rooftops, man." Alex leans in and nudges Mike's shoulder, flashes him an infectious smile but Mike fights it off. Looks down to Alex's hand as it falls from his shoulder slightly.

"It should have been you and me, you know? We never should have let them tear us apart," Mike says softly. If Alex didn't know better, he'd think Mike blames himself for the way things turned out.

"I know. But we were just doing our jobs." Alex starts to pull his hand away but Mike grabs it and holds it between his own.

"I really miss you. I miss the way it was before."

Alex feels the vibe in the room change, like a switch has been flipped and the heaviness around him makes him uncomfortable and nervous. He smiles awkwardly, confused at what's happening.

Using his current condition as an excuse to do what he's been longing to do for some time now, Mike throws caution to the wind and leans in. Alex tenses up. His eyes widen, filled with an emotion resembling anger, or maybe it's fear. Just before Mike follows through with the kiss, he passes out, his body falling limp beside Alex. This gives the sober man time to think about what almost happened – _what he almost didn't stop from happening_. He looks down and notices that his hand is still trapped between Mike's so he pulls it away.

"You awake?" Alex nudges. "Mike?" But the only answer he receives is a light snore. So, Alex gets up and tries to clean off the bed the best he can. He looks down to Mike, feels a bit resentful towards the guy for what he almost did. Even with that, he can't help himself from hoping the guy's in a more peaceful place now and bends over to take off Mike's shoes. He moves to the opposite side of the bed and places a pillow under his friend's head and pulls a blanket over him. He sits himself down on the floor next to his bag after turning off the lights. Would rather sleep in his bed but he can't, not with Mike there.

The next morning Mike wakes up, head hanging off the side of the bed and the first thing he sees is Alex sleeping on the ground. It takes him a second to process why that is exactly. It doesn't take him long to remember what happened the night before and how he was going to kiss Alex and worse, the look on Alex's face before he pretended to pass out. Now his mind is racing. Alex looked terrified yet he still took care of him. Mike's not sure what all this means but he figures that Alex must know there's no way he would have passed out after a handful of beers so he racks his brain trying to come up with some kind of story before his friend wakes up. Suddenly, not having a match on Raw doesn't seem all that important anymore.

"Uhhhh," Mike groans, holds his head as he sits up in bed. He hears Alex start to stir, just like he intended. "What happened?"

Alex sits up and leans against the side of the bed, his back towards Mike. "You don't remember?" Alex asks, closes his eyes as he waits for an answer.

"I remember going to a bar. But how'd I end up here?" Mike lies convincingly. He feels bad for deceiving Alex but he's convinced himself it's for the best – for both of them.

"Wait," Alex says as he's turning to face Mike and a feeling similar to relief rushes over him. "You went to a bar before you came here?" Alex feels the need to clarify. Thinks this would explain a lot and why Mike was acting so weird.

"I was just so angry last night. I ordered some shots, don't remember how many and I don't remember how I got here."

Alex feels better knowing that Mike's with him and not in a gutter somewhere, even if the guy did try to kiss him. _He doesn't remember that though_, Alex thinks.

"Sorry you had to sleep on the floor, Alex."

"It's fine, man. I'm just glad you're feeling better. Well, about the show anyway," Alex shrugs.

Mike smiles halfheartedly. He does feel better but now there's _another_ part of him that hurts. "I'm gonna go to my room," Mike says as he's getting up, still holding his head to maintain the ruse. Just as Mike's about to reach for the door, he turns back around to face Alex, can't seem to help himself.

"Thank you for taking care of me."

Alex squints his eyes as he looks away. For a split second he thinks Mike might remember more than he's letting on but he dismisses the thought almost as quickly. It's just easier this way. _Mike must be referring to how I let him crash on my bed_, he thinks.

"What are friends for, right?"

Mike moves in to give Alex a quick hug. Figures it would be weird if they _didn't_ hug. Alex has no choice but to hug Mike back so that's what he does. When his friend finally leaves, a part of Alex wishes Mike would stay. He lies down on the bed, wraps himself in the blanket Mike was using. Grants himself a couple minutes to live in this other place where he's with Mike and it's just the two of them but it doesn't last very long.

"No. No!" Alex huffs and he throws the blanket across the room. "That's not going to happen!"

**xxxx**

Mike tries his best to act normal around Alex whenever he sees him but he comes across as almost giddy which is the opposite of how he thought he'd be. He attributes the change in his attitude to Alex helping him that night and hugging him the next morning, even after he tried to kiss him. He doesn't really care that his behavior is tantamount to that of a love struck teenage _girl_. He doesn't really care if he's in some kind of denial and Alex was merely being a friend. After experiencing his absolute low, he vows to embrace this high as long as it wants to hang around.

Alex, on the other hand, starts to feel that resentment towards Mike again and it grows each time he sees him. Instead of seeing his friend happy, he sees him in love…with him! Alex has done such a good job denying his own feelings for the guy, it's like he's locked them in a box and pushed them into the darkest corner of the deepest sublevel of his heart and now he's forgotten they even existed in the first place. He takes all his frustrations out in the ring. Wins matches he never had the right to win. He's pulled aside the first time and given a stern warning not to go off script again but that doesn't stop him. He's warned a second time and fined for his insubordination but the third time is the last time, for a long time.

**xxxx**

"Alex!" Mike yells out running up behind his friend.

Alex rolls his eyes and keeps walking down the corridor of the arena.

"Alex!"

"Go away Mike!" Alex yells back.

Mike catches up to Alex and grabs one of his shoulders spinning him around violently. Holds onto both shoulders now, not going to let the guy get away. "I just heard from Cena that they suspended you. Fucking Cena had to tell me! What the hell's going on?" Mike questions. He had no idea Alex had been getting into trouble.

"Please take your hands off me, Mike," Alex requests calmly but he's not sure how long he can remain so patient.

"Alex-"

"Mike, let go of me," Alex warns.

"Alex, talk to me, tell me what's-"

Alex shoves Mike off him and raises his fist. Mike's shocked, can't believe Alex is about to punch him. Alex stalls, wants to hit Mike so badly but can't bring himself to do it. He punches the concrete wall instead nearly breaking his own hand.

"Fuck! Fuuuuu-uuuck!" Alex pulls his hand close, screams in unbelievable pain but at least now he can focus on that pain instead of the pain he feels when he looks into Mike's eyes.

"Holy shit, Alex!" Mike reaches out to take hold of the injured hand but Alex pulls away.

"What part of _take your hands off me_ did you not understand?" Alex barks, almost in tears. He grabs Mike's shirt tight in his mangled fist. It hurts worse than a bitch but he doesn't care. He tugs Mike close to him and starting low and building up to a crescendo he warns the guy once more, "I don't want you near me, I don't want to hear you say my name, I don't want you to call me. Don't even think about me!" Alex shoves Mike so hard the guy almost can't catch his footing. Alex turns and walks away. Instinctively, Mike opens his mouth to call out to Alex again but he's able to stop himself just in time. Decides to let the guy cool off. Besides, he really can't afford a broken nose right now anyway.

**xxxx**

Alex follows the company to each new city they perform in, even pays his own way. Technically, he's supposed to have gone home but the company _is_ his home, no matter how poorly they've treated him in the past. But in that place hidden in the depths of his heart, he's really following because _Mike_ is his home. He's not ready to admit that yet, not even to himself but it's the truth waiting to be discovered.

Mike gives Alex the space he demanded in the days following his suspension. He's not sure how long Alex needs and not knowing what's going on with him is pretty much agony. Mike wants nothing more than to be there for his friend in the way Alex was there for him at _his_ lowest. But he thinks Alex went home, doesn't know he's right down the hall most nights.

Over a week passes and Alex's hand is still a mess. It would have been healed by now but he continues to aggravate it further, taking his frustration, his anger and pain out at the gym. Every day attacking the punching bag. Sometimes to the point of bloodshed, even through his bandage. He faces his faceless adversary every morning when he wakes up and accepts defeat every night when he goes to sleep. He can't seem to break the cycle…But it's about to break _him_.

The man hasn't shaved since he hurt his hand and he's at the point where he hardly recognizes himself in the mirror – not that he particularly enjoys looking at his reflection anymore anyway. He's so disappointed in himself. He pushed away his best friend, the only person who ever truly accepted him for _him_ and for what? Alex doesn't even remember his reasoning at this point.

Finally, Alex has had enough and decides to clean himself up a bit. It would be easier if he had an electric razor but he can't seem to find it. Figures he lost it, probably around the time he lost his dignity. He lathers shaving cream on his face and starts in with the razor, slicing the tender spot on his neck with the first stroke.

"Fuckin' shit!" he yells throwing the razor to the sink. He applies pressure to the wound for a second to stop the bleeding, wonders if he might have better luck with his left hand. It's not his dominant hand but at least he can move it freely, not restricted by a thick bandage. The second he picks up the razor and feels he doesn't have a firm grip on it tells him this won't end well but he ignores the warning from within and presses the blade to his cheek. Again he cuts himself and again he lashes out. This time, as if he can't inflict enough abuse to his already damaged hand, he punches the mirror, glass flying everywhere. He's just about on the verge of tears. Wipes his face clean with the nearest towel he can find.

Alex makes his way over to the bed. He sits there utterly defeated, feels like this must be what it's like to slam into the unforgiving bottom. He reaches for his phone and pulls up Mike's number. There's no way he'd let anyone other than Mike ever see him in this kind of shape and he's so thankful his friend is so close. He can only hope Mike's _still_ his friend after the way he treated him though.

Alex listens as the rings multiply in his ear until he hears the familiar sound of Mike's sweet voice.

"Alex?"

"Mike," Alex says and he's not sure he can speak without Mike knowing he's crying.

"Alex, what is it?"

"Can you come here?" Alex asks, trying so hard to hold back the tears.

"Where are you?"

"Room 703."

"You're down the hall?"

"Can you come here?" Alex asks once more, can't seem to say much more than that.

"I'll be right there."

Alex opens the door when Mike arrives, hides his hand behind it at first but he won't be able to hide it for very long. Mike looks to Alex, happy he's here and that he called him but saddened by the state he's in. He's disheveled. His eyes are red and puffy. The poor guy looks exhausted. When Mike walks in he finds Alex's room in complete disarray, and the sight of it all is shocking since Alex is always so organized. He peaks into the bathroom and notices the shattered mirror.

"What the hell happened?" he asks turning towards Alex.

Alex still can't speak and without thinking, he moves his neglected hand out from behind his back and it catches Mike's attention in an instant.

"Oh God," Mike gasps stepping towards Alex. He looks up to the guy, silently asking permission to help and when Alex lowers his head and slowly raises his hand, Mike knows he's finally allowed to care for his friend. He gently holds the wounded hand, fresh blood seeping right through the frayed cloth. Mike slowly unwraps the stale dressing trying to be as careful as possible. Alex winces with each revolution, the last layer hurting the most as it's peeled from his sticky skin. When it's completely removed, Mike guides Alex to the bed and has him sit on the edge.

"Wait here a minute," Mike orders. He realizes he needs to get into the bathroom but he needs to clean up all the glass first so that's what he does. Alex waits patiently. He can't think of a single person on the planet that would be here for him the way Mike is right now. And the guy isn't even lecturing him or judging him, he's just here in his time of need.

Eventually Mike comes back with a damp towel. He kneels in front of Alex and washes off the blood, then applies an antibiotic. He massages the cream onto Alex's hand tenderly and Alex is so focused on Mike that he doesn't even feel the sting of it all. Mike finishes by wrapping a clean bandage around his tired hand.

"There you go," Mike whispers looking up to Alex. "What were you trying to do tonight?"

Alex rolls his head back and laughs. "I was trying to shave my face." He lowers his head to his lap, so embarrassed he can't even do something as simple as that without fucking up.

Mike sighs as he looks at the scruff Alex is hiding behind. He smiles warmly and stands up. "Come here," he says, taking hold of Alex's good hand and leading him to the bathroom. He pumps some shaving cream into his hand and turns to Alex. Slowly, he dabs it all over Alex's cheeks and chin and neck, even in the space between his lips and nose.

Alex watches Mike take care of him, shaving so diligently, so gently. He's never stopped and really looked at Mike until now, not like this. Suddenly, Mike seems beautiful beyond description and he wonders why he's never noticed this before. Mike tilts Alex's head up so he can reach his neck but Alex still doesn't look away. He smiles slightly when Mike finally makes eye contact with him. At first he doesn't even notice that Mike's pursing his lips together, wanting Alex to do the same. It takes a second but Alex gets the message and does just that - Mike, finally able to get to the area above his lips.

Mike wipes away the excess shaving cream from Alex's face, revealing the handsome man he remembers being there. He places a hand on Alex's smooth cheek.

"Like new," Mike says proudly. He looks at Alex with such intensity and Alex doesn't understand how Mike does that.

Alex hesitates just a bit longer. Doesn't want to ruin the moment by speaking but curiosity gets the better of him. "Why are you so good to me? I give you every reason to hate me and you don't."

Mike tilts his head, wonders why Alex would even ask such a question, especially after everything they've been through together. He offers an answer nonetheless. "Because you're my friend, and..."

Alex swallows hard, feels his heart beat faster now. "And what?"

Mike sighs. He's had a lot of time to think about his feelings for Alex since the guy pushed him away. He misses being close to him like this. He misses being able to talk to him and right now he feels like he could redeem himself in this moment. He could finally be honest with Alex about how he feels, instead of being scared like he was the night he attempted to kiss him. A great calm passes over Mike and he can't help smiling a little. "And…I love you."

Alex catches his breath. He already knows Mike loves him but actually hearing him say those words out loud makes his chest ache. His eyes start to glaze over, wishes they wouldn't because he just wants to see Mike clearly.

"But why?"

Mike smiles soothingly. "Does there have to be a reason?"

Alex finds it hard to believe that anything on the planet could feel more comforting than knowing he's loved by Mike without a single condition attached. "I'm sorry I was so cruel to you. You didn't deserve to be treated that way. No one should ever treat you that way."

Mike moves his hand away from Alex's face and rests it on his chest instead - the two still standing so close. "I don't understand why you couldn't just talk to me about whatever it is you're going through."

Alex is still reluctant to tell Mike what happened between the two of them but he doesn't want lies infecting their friendship any longer. "It was about _you_," Alex confesses.

"Me?"

"The night you didn't have a match on Raw, the night you passed out in my room…You kinda came onto me. You almost kissed me and I think I got scared and I didn't know how to handle any of it."

Mike is speechless. He feels terrible because he now realizes everything is his fault. He bows his head and walks past Alex, going back into the room.

"I didn't know if I should tell you," Alex says turning around, following right behind Mike. "But after the way you've been with me tonight…I know I can talk to you about it now."

Mike hangs his head. He's so scared Alex will hate him for what he's done but he has no choice except to come clean. "I never went to a bar that night. I never took any shots," Mike admits, his back to Alex. "I _really_ was pissed about not having a match and I just needed something to hold onto, something that I knew I could trust in. I didn't plan to kiss you, I never planned on _ever_ acting on my feelings for you but the opportunity seemed to present itself. And then the way you looked at me when I leaned into you? It told me I fucked up and that's when I pretended to pass out, took the easy way out like a coward instead of giving you a chance to tell me to fuck off." Mike turns to Alex. "I was humiliated and I just wanted a do-over. I saw the opening and I took that too, coming up with that story about going to the bar."

Alex stands there, no expression on his face and Mike doesn't have a clue what he's thinking.

"I've been so selfish and it's no wonder you don't love me. You can have your life back now. I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble." Mike doesn't want to leave but after all the pain he's caused, he thinks it's for the best. "I should just go," he says turning towards the door.

A part of Alex is severely hurt that Mike lied to him but he lied too and treated the guy with deep disdain for no good reason.

"You don't have to go," Alex calls out, giving into the bigger part of himself that needs Mike in his life. Mike takes a deep breath and turns back to Alex.

"We both fucked up," Alex adds.

"You still want to be my friend?"

"Of course," Alex sighs. "You're gonna have to do a lot worse than loving me to lose me," he jokes.

Mike grins and moves in to hug Alex but stops short. Alex fills the gap, wrapping his arms around his friend tightly, being careful with his injured hand. He takes a moment to breathe Mike in, so grateful he didn't pass him by.

"Kind. Caring. Funny. Supportive. Inspiring. Talented. Smart. Loyal. Generous-"

"What's all that?" Mike asks not knowing that Alex would have easily continued if not for his interruption.

"Those are the reasons why _I love you_."

Mike dips his head into the crook of Alex's neck, squeezing him a bit tighter, wishing he never had to let go. Alex pulls back and holds Mike's face in his hands. His bandage absorbing the single tear Mike sheds. Then he leans in and does what Mike couldn't do all those weeks ago.

"Okay?" Alex asks as he pulls back, still holding Mike's face – their foreheads rubbing against one another. "We're gonna be okay now," Alex assures Mike. Mike can only nod. Alex kisses the guy's cheek and holds him a bit longer, or more accurately, lets Mike hold him a bit longer.


End file.
